


at the turn of a calendar page

by nightbaron079



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightbaron079/pseuds/nightbaron079
Summary: Every time we turn the page on the calendarOur love is filled up
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	at the turn of a calendar page

He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, grip firm as they navigate the car down newly paved roads. His other hand extends outside the car, returning the greeting of the salt breeze welcoming their arrival.

It’s freezing cold, as anyone would expect how the tail end of November would feel like. Driving to a beach in Ulsan when Seoul already had its first snow was not one of his most brilliant ideas.

Driving in an obnoxiously yellow top-down car was also not probably smart.

A soft tug at the sleeve of his puffy jacket breaks his train of thought. Warm brown eyes greet his graze when he spares a glance at the rearview mirror.

“You’ll get cold,” Kyungsoo reminds him, his deep voice muffled by the scarf he’s got wrapped around his face.

“I run warm,” Chanyeol replies, casual even as the tip of his nose is red from the cold. Kyungsoo laughs his two-note laugh, aka Chanyeol’s Favorite Laugh #3.

Kyungsoo pulls down the scarf from around his face, rewarding Chanyeol with the sight of his pink cheeks. He’s always been weak against the cold. “Okay, Human Torch wannabe, you have proven your worth. Can we put the roof back up?”

Chanyeol pouts. “But this is more romantic!” he whines. “You like these things!”

“I’ll like it even more if we don’t catch frostbite,” Kyungsoo says, squinting at the buttons on the panel of the car. “And I can drive, you’ve been on the wheel for four hours. Did you even sleep?”

“You’re like, legally blind,” Chanyeol shoots back, swatting Kyungsoo’s hands away from the button that controls the switch to the sunroof. “I was asleep all day, and I had a coffee. Or two. And I’m _fine_ , I’m an excellent driver. You drive like my grandpa.”

“Your grandpa doesn’t drive.”

“Exactly.”  
  
Kyungsoo sighs, reaching up to pull at the lobe of Chanyeol’s ear. “Be careful,” he says.

Chanyeol clears his throat, grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Okay, _how_ do you make that hot?”

“You’re just horny because of the cold,” Kyungsoo deadpans. “Eyes on the road, Yeol.”

Chanyeol splutters in weak protest. He counts the smile that Kyungsoo hides in the folds of his scarf as a win.

They reach the beach in fifteen minutes, Chanyeol getting the sunroof back after Kyungsoo threatens to not leave the car. They enjoy the warmth of the built-in seat warmers before Chanyeol checks the time on his phone and squawks.

“Come on, we’ll miss it,” he urges, slamming his car door shut. He jumps in place a few times before running towards the water, yelling every time his feet sink too deep into the warm sand.

Kyungsoo makes a more graceful exit, walking slowly towards where Chanyeol was playing tag with the tiny waves racing towards the shore. He kicks sand at Chayeol’s legs when he gets close, sitting down so he is near enough to hear the sound of ocean waves but far enough so the water does not reach him.

Chanyeol flops down next to Kyungsoo, pouring sand out of his beat-up Vans. He stays quiet when Kyungsoo huddles closer, his temple resting against the joint of Chanyeol’s shoulder.

They watch as the horizon slowly changes color, the reds, and the oranges and the yellows bleeding through the inky indigo skies. The clouds part like house curtains to reveal the sun in all its blazing glory.

“Happy birthday, Chanyeollie,” Kyungsoo whispers the moment dawn breaks, the sky building up the colors to the palette of a vibrant winter sunrise. “Thank you for being born.”

Chanyeol hums under his breath, turning his head to leave a kiss on the top of Kyungsoo’s head. Their hands find their way to each other over the warm sand, fingers interlocking snugly, two pieces of a puzzle made to go together.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” Kyungsoo says, voice thick. He squeezes Chanyeol’s hand. “Home… thank you for being home.”

Chanyeol squeezes his hand back. 

“Thank you for being home,” he echoes, saying the words back. 

The sunlight is warm on their faces when the morning finally makes its full stop to stay for the day. It’s near freezing without any protection against the elements. Chanyeol’s eyes are heavy, sleep finally catching up to him. There are grains of sand stuck under their fingernails, but Kyungsoo laughs in Chanyeol’s favorite way as he sticks their hands into the pocket of his jacket—the type of laugh that makes Chanyeol believe in big romantic gestures and driving with the roof of his car down at the beginning of winter to see the sunrise on his birthday with his favorite person. 

The way Kyungsoo peers up at his face makes his heart squeeze funny, makes him blush up to his ears and down his chest. It is everything he has ever wished for after every romantic movie, every love song he has heard on the radio. 

Love, all summed up in one human being.

The way Kyungsoo peers up at his face makes his heart squeeze funny, makes him blush up to his ears and down his chest. It is everything he has ever wished for after every romantic movie, every love song he has heard on the radio. 

Love, all summed up in one human being.

Kyungsoo stirs, pulling out his phone and tapping gently on his screen. A song begins playing, one that Chanyeol was all too familiar with. At a loss for words, he gathers Kyungsoo into his arms and ignores the latter’s halfhearted protests of being manhandled. They listen to the song Chanyeol wrote, bouncing off the ideas of warmth and beginnings and light and _Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo._ He sniffles, burying his nose into Kyungsoo’s scarf, committing the scent and the sensation to memory.

They are at Kyungsoo’s hometown, lured by promises of clear skies and homemade cooking. Promises of time alone to themselves, away from all the noise of the city and their lives, a chance to revel in the orchestra of crashing waves and the metronome of their combined heartbeats. It is Chanyeol’s birthday, a new revolution around the sun, another turn of the calendar page. They are at the dregs of autumn, winter already making its presence known in the chill in the air and the way their breaths are near-visible puffs suspended in the space between their bodies. Chanyeol has the love of his life in his arms, time slowing to the spaces between each breath that they take.

He hugs Kyungsoo a little tighter, whispers a quick prayer to the universe. _Thank you, for this, for him, for everything._

“You okay there, birthday boy?” Kyungsoo asks, and Chanyeol understands that he can find a home in different places—his childhood bedroom back at home in Apgujeong that he quickly outgrew, the bunk beds at the company dorms where he spent his teens, his new home in one of Seoul’s liveliest districts in a highrise building that make him feel taller and smaller than he has ever felt in his life.

Home is also here, right next to Kyungsoo, heart cradled in the cadences of his voice, in every touch and expression he has memorized.

“More than okay,” Chanyeol answers. 

Kyungsoo does not comment on the way Chanyeol’s voice cracks at the end, or his glassy eyes, or his shaking hands. Instead, he nudges Chanyeol’s side with his elbow, helps him stand and steady on uneven sand. 

“Let’s get you all warmed up, hm?” Kyungsoo says. “We’ll make seaweed soup with lots of beef and then we can buy a cake. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

“Coffee,” he requests.

Kyungsoo nods. “No ice for now, okay?” he amends, scrunching his nose, and Chanyeol wants to keep kissing him to the end of time. 

For now, he steals a kiss to his cheek, making Kyungsoo pause. Chanyeol fidgets as Kyungsoo gazes up, grinning at the mischief he spots in his expression before he is being pulled into a kiss. A proper one, one where Kyungsoo cradles his face and rubs gently over his cheek, one that fills up all the crevices of Chanyeol’s being with love. 

They pull apart for now, in need of air. For now, they walk back to the car. For now, Chanyeol sits in the passenger seat, letting Kyungsoo drive down the more familiar streets. For now, Chanyeol sits back, gets to watch Kyungsoo navigate narrow alleyways as they talk about their plans for the day.

For now, Chanyeol gets to watch and to listen.

For now, (and hopefully, for a long time, maybe forever in the span of the days he is given) Chanyeol gets to love and be loved.

**Author's Note:**

> [the click five voice] I know it's kinda late, but happy birthday!
> 
> Happy birthday, Chanyeol! Finally got to write an EXO fic ;____; Hope you are warm and healthy and safe ;u;
> 
> Story and imagery hugely inspired by [SSFW](https://open.spotify.com/track/3jwXD4Z5AUj3JEgsac9F1y?si=mOzskmPcQtGyli7dqskJeg) (I listened to the Japanese version on loop) and [minimal warm](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Lp1fMo9DyDVIv83q94cdy?si=XUqnAtwaSVeCRf20R4GYKA).
> 
> I write on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ScribbleMyDream) too! :)


End file.
